Someone Like You
by JxTina
Summary: Epilogue to Garden of Eden. Rhian reflects on her relationship with Randy and seeks closure. RATED M FOR LANGUAGE & SEXUAL CONTENT
1. Chapter 1

**Someone Like You**

Okay, so when I finished _Garden of Eden_, things were all wrapped up for the boys, but Rhian was kind of left, so I decided that I needed to do her justice and give her a chance to remember and reflect and hopefully come to terms with the end of her relationship with Randy. This all takes place about 9months or so after they split.

The story will alternate between present and past (the big chunks of _italics_) - please note that the flashbacks are not chronological, but hopefully they make some sort of sense.

It's a bloody long story, so I have split it into two parts - feel free to get a cup of tea (or your preferred poison) in between, as long as you come back for the second part lol.

Big thanks to the lovely QueenOfCombat who helped loads with ideas, put up with my endless whining and read through the entire thing in one sitting the other night.

**DISCLAIMER:** I do not own Randy or Cody. Rhian is mine.

**DISCLAIMER 2:** The parts in **bold** are the gorgeous lyrics of _Someone Like You_ by the amazing Adele, used without permission. If you haven't heard of Adele, go listen to her. And listen to this song!

Right, enough of me. Hope you like.

* * *

><p><strong>I heard that you're settled down,<br>****that you found a girl and you're married now,  
><strong>**I heard that your dreams came true,  
><strong>**Guess she gave you things I didn't give you**

I slowly switch the engine off. My heart is thumping. I can feel it in my throat, heavy pound after pound. My breath is short, raspy. My knuckles are white from gripping the steering wheel too tightly. I am frozen.

The past nine months have been hell. Not that anybody would know that. I've worked hard to keep up the façade. I've doubled my defences, kept the shield up. To the outside world, I have moved on. I put on the smile, shrug off the pity looks and tell everyone that I am okay.

But I'm not. Inside, I'm still in turmoil. Still wondering what the hell happened. Looking for a reason, an answer, anything to ease the pain that still clings to me. The pain that is begging for an outlet. The pain that only seeps out at night when I wake up, cold, lonely.

But now, the pain is quickly working it's way to the surface, the façade is fading fast.

I uncurl, or rather, prise, my fingers from the steering wheel. Bend them slowly, watch the colour seep back up to the tips. And then clench them tightly, dig my nails into my palms. And howl.

If only screaming would solve this. I want to scream all day long. I want to shout, hurl things across the room. I want to tear things up. I want to tear myself up. I want to reach inside, pull out my heart and twist it in my hands till it stops hurting. Till I stop feeling anything.

I want to move on. Lord knows I want to. But I'm stuck. No matter what I do, what I try to bend my mind into thinking, I am stuck in that place. As much as I try to move on, I can't. I want the day to come when I don't have to put on my face and force myself to be happy, to be myself. I want to be natural again. I want to be able to get out of bed, walk downstairs, make coffee and let my mind go, without bursting into tears. I want to be able to look in the mirror and believe what I see.

But life is not so kind. You would have thought that I would know that by now. In one moment, things can change. In one moment, all that hard work, the desperate attempt to heal, to move on – it all comes crashing down. Just like that.

I saw...

Them.

Laughing.

Hand in hand.

Not a care in the fucking world.

They looked happy.

I howl again. Throw my head back against the headrest. Close my eyes. Open them again when the image of them flashes up again and again.

They looked so happy.

They looked how we once looked.

**Old friend, why are you so shy?  
><strong>**Ain't like you to hold back or hide from the light**

_I sit in the car, watching the rain hammering down. It's about twenty metres to the store. Twenty metres of rain to tackle. I can see people huddled under the porch, eyeing up their cars, debating whether to make a break for it or to wait. _

_I've been waiting for ten minutes. Now or never it seems. I slowly reach for my purse, remove my keys from the ignition, stopping the windscreen wipers mid-wipe. I pull the hood of my sweater up over my head, wiggle my feet in my incredibly unsuitable flip-flops and make a dash for it. _

_I make it to the porch and look down to survey the damage. I am soaked through. Brilliant. I stop off for a pint of milk, bread and cigarettes and end up with a complimentary shower instead. I shrug my hood off and push open the door to the store. _

_I hear the door swing half-shut behind me and then the bell tinkles once more as someone comes in behind me. I half-glance over my shoulder, but I don't notice whoever it was. Why? Because the rain has stopped. Typical. I scowl and stomp, or rather, squelch my way down the aisle towards to the small bakery at the back of the store. _

_On my way to the till, I grab a carton of milk, turn and promptly crash into someone. _

"_Sorry," I mumble._

"_No problem."_

_Hang on, I've heard that voice before. I glance up slowly, my eyes taking in the tight fitting shirt, the thick neck, the 5 o clock shadow, the piercing blue eyes. Shit. _

_Randy's mouth twitches into a smile. "It's good to see you again."_

"_You too."_

_Although the last time I saw him, he was asleep in that motel bed. On his front, arm hanging over the edge, sheets tangled around his legs... The image has been seared in my mind ever since. I should have stayed. Bloody Lea with her "just leave, don't wake him." Why do I listen to that girl?_

"_So..." I fumble around for words. Wow, who'd have thought this would be so awkward? "How, erm, how you been?"_

_He raises his arm, hand reaching to scratch the back of his head. I think I'm going to die. "Good thanks," he drawls slowly._

_What has it been? A month? Possibly longer... I told him to call me. Who waits for a month to call? Technically, he still hasn't called-_

"_Sorry I haven't called. I only got back a few hours ago," he interrupts my thoughts, instantly making me feel guilty for them._

"_Oh, no worries." I shrug, desperate to look nonchalant. I can feel a drop of water begin it's slow trickling pace down the back of my neck. Silence overtakes us and I struggle for something intelligent to say. The tension between us is almost unbearable. I want to hit reverse, zoom back to travelling down the highway and instead of pulling over to the store, I would have carried on straight. _

_He shifts his weight from one foot to the other and back again. His mouth twitches. A woman brushes behind him. Her husband follows, glaring at us for blocking the aisle. Randy's mouth opens slightly, his tongue darting across his lips. Wetting them. I force my thoughts back to where they belong: the gutter._

_Enough._

"_Well it was good to see you again," I say, not as firmly as I had imagined. My voice is strangely forced. "Maybe see you around..." _

_I turn, grasping my purchases firmly. Walk away. Calm. Ignore the embarrassing squeak from my flip-flops._

"_Rhian, wait."_

_I turn._

"_Dinner?" he smiles._

**I hate to turn up out of the blue uninvited,  
><strong>**But I couldn't stay away, I couldn't fight it,  
><strong>**I had hoped you'd see my face,  
><strong>**And that you'd be reminded that for me it isn't over**

A car slows, it's full beams circling, breaking through the darkness in my bedroom. I listen as the sound of the engine gets louder, louder and then slowly fades away, as does the light. I roll my head to the side and reach out, scrambling for my phone. I click the screen on, the harsh glow dazzling for a second as I blink, just about making out the time of 3am.

I slowly sit up, drawing my knees to my chest. It's been a while since I've struggled to sleep. A while since I've thought about how lonely my bed can be. How lonely any bed can be. How lonely my life has become...

If I close my eyes, I will remember. And I will torture myself with the memories.

I shiver.

**Nevermind, I'll find someone like you,  
><strong>**I wish nothing but the best for you, too,  
><strong>**Don't forget me, I beg**

_I wrap the soft, fluffy towel around me and make perfect wet footprints on the bathroom floor as I move to the mirror above the sink. Wiping away the steam, I pick up the comb on the vanity stand and start smooth, steady strokes through my hair. Water pitter patters on the floor behind me. I make a mental note to dry the floor before I go to bed. My first night alone here – I don't want to fuck it up. _

_It was way too generous of Randy. My apartment's hot water was still out of action. And the heating only seems to work in short, sporadic spasms. Not exactly great when the temperature outside was barely above freezing. Randy had come round five days ago in an attempt to fix both the heating and hot water, but had only succeeded in making it worse. Mainly by bursting the pipe under the kitchen sink within five minutes. I decided that I wouldn't mention what the handyman had remarked when he saw the damage. After drying off, Randy had told me to pack my things and stay at his house. _

_And then early this morning, he'd written me a note on how the incredibly-yet-unnecessary-sophisticated alarm system worked and left me with a set of keys. A long, sultry kiss, his hand sneaking up the back of my top, trailing a finger down my spine, making me shiver... And then he was gone. Off to a show, back the following afternoon. _

_Hair combed, I pad into the bedroom. I should have gone home earlier today, but laziness had taken over and I spent the day, laid out on the couch, watching mind-numbing TV. Now I was regretting that choice. I had no clean clothes. Chewing my lip, I stared at the closet, wondering if he would mind... It was a big step just staying in his house alone. To start borrowing his clothes at the same time? _

_Relationships fuck with my head. How's he going to know? I tug open the closet door and step in. It's like stepping into another room. It goes back about a two metres and is possibly even bigger in width. I run my hand along the cuffs of the the neatly pressed and hung plain black, dark blue, deep purple and crisp white shirts. Dress pants, suit jackets and then several choice three pieces suits. My mind conjures up one hell of an image and I catch myself giggling at the thought. _

_I take my pick and pull out one of the drawers. As if luck would have it, I discover a stash of what look like Randy's workout shirts. I select a light grey one from the top. I pause and then sniff at it – despite the over-powering smell of soap powder, I can smell something beneath it. A hint of him. Maybe it's my imagination, but I swear his scent is imprinted on the material. A faint tang of salt, sweat, sweetness. _

_Back in the bedroom, I slip it on. It hangs to just above my knees, the sleeves at my elbows. I could cinch the waist in and make a damn dress out of it. I twist my hair around my fingers and tie it loosely at the crown of my head. It's only half ten. There's still a glass' worth of wine in the refrigerator. _

_Glass in hand, I curl up on the sofa and gaze around. I've never had the chance to take this place in properly. The neatness of it. He must have a cleaner. I can't see Randy wielding a vacuum cleaner and duster once a week. He's never here from week to week anyway. Everything is carefully chosen, precise and exact. There's mess, sure, but even that looks deliberate. Five months in and still there's things about him that I don't quite get. _

_This house for one. A massive house for one guy. There are six bedrooms. Granted, two are full of gym equipment. That still leaves four. His room, what looks like an office and two spares, both with beds always made up. Downstairs there's the huge lounge, the kitchen off to the side, the dining room the other side. The door down to the basement... French windows in the dining room leading onto the veranda. Another door from the kitchen leading to the same. And I rattle around in my one bedroom apartment. An apartment that feels too small when he's there._

_He fills the space instantly. And even here, in his own house, it feels titchy when he's here, moving around, creaking the floorboards, commenting loudly at the TV, over-exaggerated sounds when he's cooking, the bad singing from the shower each morning. The sweet groans from his throat late at night..._

_I down the dregs from the glass and pick up his note from the coffee table. I read the instructions a few times before I feel brave enough to tackle the combination of codes that protect the house. The alarm beeps at me furiously, before settling down for the night. I creak up the stairs and pull the covers over my head._

* * *

><p><em>In the distance, a door slams. My eyes don't open though. My dream lures me back, pulling me under once more, blotting out the the dawn light. Something creaks, echoes through my subconscious. My mind keeps me under.<em>

_A light, feathery touch on my face. Another... A voice, making its way through, pulling me up into the morning._

"_Rhian..." Warm breath on my cheek. A soft kiss on my brow, the tip of my nose, cold lips on mine._

_I slowly open my eyes. Piercing blue ones shine down at me. His fingers brush strands of hair away from my face. He kisses me again, as I push back the covers to let him in. I roll onto my back and shift over, expecting him to lie beside me. But he crawls over me instead, pulling the covers up over our heads. _

"_Missed you..." He breathes against my mouth, as he settles over me, easing my legs apart with his thighs. _

"_It was one night," I murmur sleepily, my brain only half-registering what's happening._

"_And?"_

"_I thought you weren't supposed to be back till later this morning."_

"_The thought of you all alone in my house," he kisses me softly, "in my bed... and apparently also in my shirt," he cocks his eyebrow and I giggle. "Well that's enough just to drive me fucking crazy." He rolls his hips slowly against mine, his hardness pressing firmly against my crotch. _

_I bite my lip. His hands seek out mine, pull them up over my head as his mouth finds mine once again. His fingers lock together with mine as his lips start to trail down my neck, teeth grazing the skin softly at first and then hard, making sure that the moan in the back of my throat is released. _

_He moves down, his teeth nipping at the neck of my (or rather, his) shirt. His hands trail down over my arms, down my sides and slowly pull the shirt up over my head. I close my eyes as his mouth closes over my right breast, his tongue twisting deliciously slowly around the nipple. His other hand grazes between us as he tugs down the zip of his sweatshirt. I am barely aware of my hands moving to push the material away, letting my fingers wander over his back, digging in the grooves of his muscles, as his tongue trails across my stomach. _

_My back arches involuntarily as he hooks his fingers into my underwear and slowly tugs them down. I can feel his hot breath on me as he pushes my legs further apart and then up onto his shoulders as he settles before me. His tongue gently caresses me, slowly at first, and then steady, delving deeper, as his fingers tease alternate strokes. I can feel my stomach tense, the sharp twinges of desire slowly taking over my insides. My head, still full of sleep is only just starting to catch up with the rest of my body. My senses slowly come alive, realising the predicament and suddenly on full alert. The sound of blood rushing to my head as my back arches off the bed higher this time, the feeling of his muscles beneath my feet and the rustle of bedsheets as Randy shifts to a more comfortable position below me. One arm curls around my waist, forcing me down onto the bed. Fingers push into me, as he twists his tongue around my core as I fall into oblivion._

**I remember you said,  
><strong>"**Sometimes it lasts in love,  
><strong>**But sometimes it hurts instead,"  
><strong>**Sometimes it lasts in love,  
><strong>**But sometimes it hurts instead, yeah**

I push the drawer closed, but it resists and rocks back into my hand. I push again, this time pinning the clothes folded in it down with my other hand. It bounces back again. I frown and pull the drawer out as far it will go. Kneeling down, I squint into the shadows. Nothing.

Chewing my lip, I slowly slide my hand over the back edge of the drawer and grope around. My fingers brush something. I grasp at it desperately and tug it free. I throw it over my shoulder without looking and try to close the drawer again. Again, I don't succeed.

"For fuck's sake..."

I reach in again, but can't feel anything. I slowly push the drawer to, allowing my arm to move further in. I make a grab and pull. The drawer closes as I pull my arm and the item of discarded clothing free.

I glance down at my lap. Black lace crumples before me. A Valentine's day gift. Worn once. Torn once. And then shoved to the back of my underwear drawer. With a slight pang, I remember how Randy was never one for sexy underwear. Unless it was a simple bra and panties combination – anything more took too long to take off. His frustration would take over and...

Stop it.

I throw the lace corset in the direction of the trashcan. I rock back on my heels and stand. I look around and my heart leaps to my throat.

His t-shirt. The one I would always sleep in when he was away. It lies in a heap next to the bed where I had tossed it aside. I lean down and pick it up. It still soft. I curl my fists around it and slowly raise it to my face. I take a deep breath. His scent floods my senses. Seeps into my pores once again.

It takes all my strength to stop. With shaking hands, I slowly fold the t-shirt and lay it on the bed. I turn and look at my closet door with a sense of dread.

It's time.

**You know how time flies,  
><strong>**Only yesterday was the time of our lives**

_I half gaze out of the window, half watch Randy out of the corner of my eye, as we speed along the highway. I lean back against the headrest and let my head roll to the side – my sunglasses shielding my eyes from the low sun. _

_One year. One year ago, Lea and I were halfway through a road trip, struggling to get cash together to pay for cash. And now? Lea is still travelling around the world (currently partying in Thailand) and I'm embarking on a rather shorter road trip to the unknown with Randy. A rare chance to spend 48 uninterrupted hours together. I try to remember the last time we spent that much together – just us, not in a hotel, fighting to get a room that wasn't already occupied by one of his colleagues. Not another night spent apart surviving on only phone calls, webcams or x-rated photos. Not a frantic evening together, trying to get as much out of each other as possible. And no long, extended goodbyes till Sunday night. _

_Randy shifts in his seat, and I let my head roll to the other side and gaze at him. He glances over at me and gives me a small smile. One hand rests on the steering wheel, elbow propped up against the window, the other resting on his thigh. As his gaze returns to the road ahead, his free hand moves over and rests on my hand, his fingers running over mine, squeezing softly._

"_Another hour, baby," he says. _

_I smile. "You still not going to tell me where we're going?"_

"_Hell no."_

_I pout and he chuckles. "Such a kid." He gives my hand another squeeze and then lets go as we take the next exit. _

_Randy edges the car slowly down the mud-track. The trees are so dense around us that without the car lights on full beam, we'd be in complete darkness. We turned off the main road about 2 miles back and from what I can see (which is pretty much nothing) we've probably still got a while to go before we reach anywhere._

_The track turns sharply to the left and suddenly, to my surprise, we enter a clearing and the headlights glance off a building. Randy swings the car around and pulls up next to a wood cabin. Shutting off the engine, we sit for a second in complete silence._

"_What do you think?" he murmurs._

"_You really did pick the most isolated place ever. I didn't think you'd take me quite so literally."_

"_I thought," he says, leaning over towards me, pushing his seatbelt aside, "that you wanted to get away from everything."_

"_I did."_

"_So a good surprise?" He's about an inch away, his hand un-clicking my seatbelt as his arm circles me and pulls me closer._

"_Definitely," I whisper into his mouth. _

_He kisses me softly and then pulls back, reaches into his pocket and chucks me the key. "Well let yourself in. I'll get the bags."_

_Inside, everything is open plan – the front door opens onto the large lounge, which leads onto the kitchen at the left and at the back, I can see the soft glow of patio lights through the french windows. Floating stairs on the right lead up to the open expanse of the bedroom, the bathroom the only room with a door. _

_Randy comes through the front door as I'm investigating the contents of the refrigerator, discovering it rammed with enough food to last us for more than a weekend, along with a bottle of champagne. I remove it and set about trying to find glasses. Just as I'm reaching up to open one of the cupboards, Randy's hands graze my hips. _

"_Let me," he breathes in my ear, his teeth nipping ever so slightly at my neck, before he reaches above me and retrieves two glasses. Setting them to one side, he flips me around and lifts me onto the counter. Pushing my legs apart, he settles between them, my face now level with his. I run my fingers over his shorn head, digging my nails in slightly when I reach the base of his neck, the muscles tensing beneath the skin. His mouth presses against mine, his hands running through my hair, down my back, pulling me firmly against him._

"_Happy anniversary," he murmurs, as he pulls away._

"_You too," I smile._

"_Champagne?"_

"_Please."_

_Leaving me on the counter, he gets the bottle, opens it and pours._

"_Thanks," I say as he hands me the glass. "For all of this. You didn't have to. I would have been happy just to spend a weekend with you at your house."_

"_Why? We spend most of our time together there," he takes my hand and pulls me off the counter and back into the lounge. "Sit," he nods to the couch. _

_I curl my legs underneath me and take a sip of champagne, watching as he sets his glass on the table and then heads to his bag. He turns, one hand behind his back._

"_I, erm, got you something else too."_

"_Yeah? Funny cos I got you something too."_

"_Really?" He sits on the couch opposite me, stretching out invitingly, still hiding whatever it is he's holding._

"_Sure." I get up and go to fumble around in my own bag, drawing out the flat package that I had carefully packed. As I settle back on the couch, he finally reveals what he's been hiding._

_He pushes a small square box towards me. "You go first."_

_I carefully pull open the ribbon and tug the lid from the box. Wrapped in tissue paper is a thin silver chain, with the outline of a heart hanging delicately from the end. _

"_Randy... God, it's beautiful." I lift the chain from the box. "Thank you."_

"_Here," he reaches out and takes the necklace from my fingers, opens the clasp and leans forward. Sliding his arms over my shoulders, he fastens the necklace, his thumb grazing the side of my neck as he adjusts the position of the chain._

_I run my own finger over the heart that rests an inch below the hollow in throat, a smile tugging at my lips. _

"_Your turn," I murmur, pushing the present towards him. _

_My stomach twists into tight knots as he carefully started to unwrap it. I had debated on what the hell to give him for the past two months. My first thought had been a watch. But when I realised one night before we went out for dinner that he owned about ten already, I decided against it. My next thought had been some sort of clothing. But what would be the point? He seemed to live in jeans and sweatpants, another pair would just add to the pile in his closet. What to get the man who has quite literally anything. Why add to the DVD collection that only I watched? Why buy books that would never get read, CDs that would never get played._

"_Jesus, Rhian..." Randy threw the wrapping paper to one side. "How long did that take?" He stares at the frame. _

"_Too many lonely nights." I pause. "Do you like it?"_

"_Definitely..."_

"_Thought I'd appeal to your narcissistic side," I giggle._

_He glances up, eyebrow cocked, smirk pulling at the edges of his mouth. _

_I had taken the picture at one of the first shows I had ever been to. Hiding out backstage, I had taken the original shot just as he was preparing to out onto the ramp. Unknowingly, he'd glanced straight at me when I hit the shutter. But instead of just framing it and giving it to him, I used it as a guide and made up a mosaic of the photo, using photos I had taken of him, us, his friends, over the past year. It had taken about month to complete, but the look on his face was telling me it had been worth it. _

"_It's just... amazing." He sets the frame to one side and shifts closer to me. "Thank you."_

"_I've got another present for you too..." I murmur as I slide my arms around his neck. "It needs unwrapping too..."_

_He groans as he slides over me, his fingers already plucking at the hem of my shirt. His mouth works it way up my neck slowly, drawing low moans from my throat. He eases my legs apart easily with his knee and as I adjust to accommodate him, something falls to the floor. But instead of the soft thud of box on wood, something clangs shrilly._

_I pull away from his tempting mouth and struggle to look down. To my surprise, Randy shifts back, an unreadable expression crossing his face. Is that embarrassment? Nervousness? Or just irritation at being interrupted just as the going gets good?_

_I lean over the edge of the couch and with my free hand, pull the empty jewellery box and the tissue paper that it once held towards me. The paper slides over easily, revealing a flash of silver beneath it._

"_Randy, what the..." And then words stumble to a halt in my mouth and I struggle to swallow._

_The key glistens in the light. I pick it up slowly, my now hot and sweaty hands heating the cool metal instantly._

_I pull myself up on the couch, my mind working fast. I look at Randy questioningly. He's chewing his lip nervously._

"_What's this?" I say, even though I already know what it is._

_He runs his hand over his head. "I... I was thinking. I mean, you already... You spend..."_

_It's almost painful to watch him get the words out. For a man who's in front of the camera every week, it's amazing how much he can struggle to express himself in private._

_He coughs. "Fuck, Rhi... It's a key. What do you think it is?"_

_I can feel my mouth twitching into a grin. Don't crack, don't laugh. "A key to what?"_

_He narrows his eyes. "You're doing this on purpose aren't you?"_

"_Well, if you spat the words out..."_

"_Fine." He reaches out and pulls me across the couch into his arms. "Will you... move in with me?"_

_I chew my lip thoughtfully and then smile. "If I say no-"_

_He frowns, but his eyes don't match up with his mouth. I lean forward and capture his lips with mine._

"_Of course I will," I whisper against his cheek._

_His arms squeeze me tightly. "Good. Now, where were we?"_

_I let him push me onto my back, the key still gripped tightly in my fist._

**We were born and raised in a summer haze,  
><strong>**Bound by the surprise of our glory days**

Opening the fridge, I pull out a bottle of wine. I pour myself a glass, a big one at that, and then go back into the lounge. The cardboard box is sitting on the coffee table. Randy's t-shirt beside it. I sit myself down on the couch and take a gulp of wine.

This is what I have been avoiding for the last nine months. I have refused to come face to face with what our relationship once was. I need to look it straight in the eye, reassess everything and then... Well, who knows. Bury myself deeper in the memories? Drift into the unknown of depression? Or, maybe, move on?

Fucking hell, Rhian. Pull yourself together. Open the damn box.

I stuffed everything I could into this box when I moved out. Once upon a time, this box just contained the good stuff. Like a lovesick teenager, I stashed away everything from our first few dates – the cinema stubs, the tickets to see a game, the rare gig. And then came the photos, the cards, the dried petals from one of the roses he gave me on our first Valentine's together.

And now? As I shift through the mementos of our relationship, I can see things from the good and the bad. I find the notes we scribbled to each other at the bitter end. The last kisses we ever exchanged via pen and paper. I don't even know why I took it. Beneath them, the twisted silver chain, broken in two after I snapped it from my neck in anger when I drove away from Cody's... I pick it up, hold it delicately between my fingers and gaze at the heart that hangs from it. I run a finger over the smooth metal and then lay it to one side on top of the shirt.

I sift deeper into the past. Gaze at the photos, arms around each other, kisses on the cheek, the mouth, the neck, my face cracked in two with a ridiculous grin. His smile toothy, charming, sexy. I run a finger over his captured cheek. Deeper still...

A receipt, the print faded, but my own scrawl in blue ink at the bottom: a date that sends my mind into over-drive.

**I hate to turn up out of the blue uninvited,  
><strong>**But I couldn't stay away, I couldn't fight it,**

_The buzzer goes just I'm fighting with the zip of my dress. Cursing, I run through my apartment barefoot, still trying to tug the zip up. _

"_Hello?"_

"_Hey, it's Randy." Jesus, his voice feels like it's in my head, wrapping it's way around my mind._

"_Sure, come up."_

_I press the button and hear the door below click open. I unlock my apartment door and desperately fiddle with the zip. Shit. _

_The door swings open. I swallow hard. He's all in black – perfectly sized dress pants, black shirt, the top button casually undone, his black suit jacket curled over the crook of his arm, his fingers lightly toying with his pants' pocket. _

"_Hi, sorry, I'm not ready yet." I stop with the zip. Seriously not worth it. I'll change. "I'll be five minutes. Make yourself at home," I gesture to the left, to the lounge. _

"_Thanks."_

_I turn and scurry back to the bedroom. _

"_Hey, your dress..."_

_His footsteps echo towards me. Jesus Christ, he's right behind me. I can't look around; I'm frozen to the spot._

"_Let me," he murmurs. I urge myself not to flinch – I can feel the heat off his fingers as they edge closer to the zip, my skin. In a way, I'm glad my hair is curled up in a bun, if he had to move it out of the way, I would be a puddle on the floor. _

_All afternoon, I have been having flashbacks to that night in the motel. Remembering the way my body reacted to his touch; the feel of his mouth on mine, on my skin, between my legs. The feeling of him against me, inside me. The grip of his hands around my wrists as he fucked me against that bathroom wall. The way voice ripped through my mind, his teeth on my ear lobe, his tongue tracing the curve of my ear. In the shower, I had to flick the temperature to cold._

_And now? His fingers brush against my back, as he edges the zip up into place. His warm breath ripples against the back of my neck; I can't help but shiver. I force myself to stay still until he moves away._

"_Thank you," I murmur. "I'll be two seconds..."_

_I close the door to my room, stare at myself in the full length mirror. Do I stick to the rules? Last time, it wasn't a date. It was a random occurrence. This time, there are rules. No putting out on the first date – forget that we've already got pretty damn intimate. Put that aside for tonight. Polite conversation. Small, gentle touches across the table, a formal kiss on the cheek goodnight. Close the door, go to bed and fantasize like crazy, but do not sleep with him on the first date._

_Stick to the rules._

* * *

><p><em>As we pull up in front of my apartment building, I'm beginning to think that rules were definitely made for breaking. Polite conversation is over-rated. Small, almost insignificant touches are not.<em>

_The restaurant sat us in a back corner, a small table wedged in so firmly, I was amazed Randy managed to get in and out. Even I had to ungracefully twist my leg through the small gap between the chair and table legs – the seat being pushed back as far as it would ago against the wall. My knee kept brushing his all night, ensuring that a pretty steady aching yearning kept creeping its way up my thighs. We were barely a foot apart; my fingers brushed against his so many times, it was amazing that we didn't start a small fire from the friction. So close, that it was all I could do to keep my eyes on his face and not let them slip down to the undone button of his shirt, which somehow turned into two undone buttons when he came back from the restroom before dessert. The tantalizing bronzed skin drawing me in..._

_Randy shuts off the engine and pauses for a second. Like he's waiting for me to make the first move. I bite my lip as he glances over._

"_Thank you for a lovely evening," I eventually say. My own politeness is embarrassing._

"_No problem."_

_I can hear the engine ticking as it cools. The silence between us is deafening – no background noise to drown out a lack of words now. An awkward silence builds. I wrack my brains for something decent to say. Either say good night or invite him up._

"_Well," Randy starts._

_My mouth opens before I can stop it._

"_Do you want to come up?" I say quietly, looking away so I don't have to meet his eyes. Yet I can feel his gaze on my face, assessing my tone, my face, trying to gauge if I'm just being polite or not._

"_Sure... I mean," he corrects himself quickly. "If you want me to."_

_His own hesitancy relaxes me. Both of us clamouring for guidance from the other – both of us wondering what's going to happen when we get past that door. _

_I fish my keys out of my bag as he gets out and hurries round to open the passenger door for me. His manners are impeccable and almost unexpected. It almost contradicts with – no. Forget last time. He wasn't exactly rude, just... No. Forget it. _

_His hand slips into the small of my back, gently guiding me across the road. In another life, I would have given him a look of distain, walked on faster, let him follow me rather than steer me. I would have taunted, teased him up the stairs. Curled him around my little finger, pulled him to the bedroom, crawled over him, sucked, fucked... In my head, I still want to. But something tells me I would be relinquishing control all to soon. That I would have him crawling over me, teasing... Like before._

_This is different, I decide, as we climb the stairs. He's following me, a step or so behind. I chew my lip, turn at the top of the stairs, making him stop, one step down. He stares up at me, the steely blue eyes slicing through me. It's like he can see all of me – inside and out, all my thoughts, dreams, fantasies... My soul. A knot tightens in my chest. Stripped bare like this, in almost an instance, makes me feel..._

_I turn again and open my apar__tment door, his hands trace the curve of my hips, his nose buried in the soft hair at the base of my neck. A hand slides up my side, as his mouth works wonders on my neck. A finger pulls at the hair pin holding my bun in place, eases it out, letting my hair cascade down, as I twist around and capture his mouth with mine._

_We tear up the rule book in the hall... On the couch... In my bed._


	2. Chapter 2

**I had hoped you'd see my face,  
><strong>**And that you'd be reminded that for me it isn't over**

Should I call him?

In the box, I discovered a variety of things that I took in the chaos of leaving – CDs, DVDs, a forgotten key to his house, his t-shirt... The necklace. It doesn't feel right to keep it. And I can't throw it away. But I don't know if I can face talking to him yet.

If I call him and he doesn't pick up, what does that say? And I know already that I won't be able to leave a message. Although, if he did pick up, chances are I would hang up straight away. I can't do it.

I should just take the stuff to his house and leave it outside. But there, I run an even greater risk. And after the other day, I need to keep away from situations that will catch me off guard. Going to his house means that I might see them together again. I can't go through that again. It's taken a week to stop dreaming about it.

I can see it now – placing the box on the front step, walking away, turning and seeing one of them, or both of them watching me from the window. Or worse, placing the box on the step, glancing through the window and seeing them, on the sofa maybe... Christ, I think I'm going to be sick.

Or maybe... Maybe I would just lose it. Like I did at the end. Something in Randy always brought out that side in me. Too alike for our own good – stubborn, controlling... Too much anger... Too much passion.

**Nevermind, I'll find someone like you,  
><strong>**I wish nothing but the best for you, too,  
><strong>**Don't forget me I beg,  
><strong>**I remember you said,  
><strong>"**Sometimes it lasts in love,  
><strong>**But sometimes it hurts instead."**

_I check my cell for the tenth time in as many minutes. Seriously. He is late. Like so fucking late, it's not even fucking worth it anymore. He said he'd be home at eight. It's now nine. We are supposed to be at Lea's right now. Her welcome home party to be exact. And instead of drinking with her, I'm sitting on the couch, waiting for Randy. I don't even know if he's touched down. I've left about five messages – his cell goes straight to voicemail every time I try._

_This is ridiculous. I check my watch. Five past nine. Fuck it._

_I write him a note, not bothering to hide my anger:_

Gone to Lea's. Waited for you till 9. Maybe you can grace us with your presence if you can be bothered. Back whenever I feel like it. Rhi.

_I pause. And then add:_

PS Taken your car.

_My hand hovers, my mood shifting slightly. I feel a little guilty. I should wait... No, fuck him. If he can't be bothered to even phone, then I can't be bothered to be polite._

* * *

><p><em>I stay at Lea's till midnight. I barely touch my one drink. She kept giving me odd looks. I kept checking my phone, wondering when did I become to dependent on another. A year ago I would be falling on my ass drunk, dancing on fucking tables, downing shots, one half of the heart of the party. And now? I'm the girl who checks her phone every two seconds, who makes excuses for her boyfriend's ignorant behaviour instead of telling the truth. Because the truth stings just a little bit too much to admit.<em>

_I drive home slowly. In my head, I start to rehearse what I will say when I see him. As I get closer to home, my hands start to shake with anger. My heart is beating hard. I can feel tears pricking at my eyes. One thing I ask him to do. I never ask him for anything. There have been so many nights where he's home late. One hour, two hours sometimes. But those nights I let it slide. He can't help it if planes are delayed, if traffic is bad, if immigration takes an age. But tonight? The one time I asked him to take an earlier flight so he would be there on time, he lets me down. The one night it mattered. _

_I pull into the driveway and see his other car sitting there. There's lights on in the lounge. I take a moment to collect my thoughts and then slam the car door behind me._

_He's lying on the couch, beer in one hand._

"_What time did you get back?" I mutter._

"_Ten."_

"_So why didn't you come over?"_

"_Your note made it sound like you didn't want me there."_

_I fail to bite my tongue. "I did want you there. But you obviously didn't want to come. Otherwise maybe you'd have made a fucking effort to be home on time so we could have gone together."_

"_What did you want me to do Rhi? Fly the fucking plane myself?"_

"_You could have phoned."_

"_My phone died."_

_I roll my eyes. "Of course it did. And no-one else had a phone did they?"_

"_I wasn't on the same flight as everyone else as you well know."_

_I chuck my bag on the side table and head to the kitchen. My throat feels dry, my hands are trembling._

"_Rhi," he calls after me. "Look, I'm sorry-"_

"_I'm fucking sorry too. Sorry that I had to make fucking excuses for you. Sorry that I only spent 2 hours with my best friend because I was waiting like an idiot for you. Sorry that I'm always fucking waiting around for you to get back from work. Because I really love that Randy – I love waiting around for you. Makes me feel so fucking good."_

_I grab a glass from the drainer and fill it with water. I can feel his presence in the doorway behind me. _

"_What do you want me to do Rhi?"_

"_Make a fucking effort for once."_

"_An effort? I'm here aren't I? I've flown from the other side of the country to be here. For you. Sorry I'm late and I missed it. I'm sorry I couldn't phone you. But I can't do anything about that now can I?"_

"_What's the point in you making an effort? You always fall through."_

_I regret the words the minute they leave my mouth. All I want to do is scramble around on the floor and pick them back up, but they lie there, cold, bitter, raw._

"_I make a fucking effort," he says slowly. "I do everything I can to fly back even for one night. It's my job Rhi. I thought you understood that. I mean, it's not like I tricked you into this relationship is it? You knew exactly what you were getting. I was clear with you. I told you that I can't be here every waking hour. I offer to fly you out whenever I can. But you always say no."_

"_Because I have my own fucking job! Not that you want me to have a job. You'd much prefer it if I sat at home everyday, playing with my thumbs, waiting for you to come home."_

"_I never said that."_

"_Not in so many words, but I know you." I tap the side of my head._

_He narrows his eyes. "Are you drunk?"_

"_What the fuck?"_

"_Did you have a drink?"_

"_What if I did?" I'm taunting him now, but I couldn't give a shit. He deserves it._

"_You drove my fucking car."_

"_It's a car, Randy. Get over it."_

"_Don't be stupid," he spits. "You think I'm bothered about that? Drive the fucking car all you want. Just don't get fucking wasted and then drive it."_

"_Oh my god, you really think I'm that stupid? That I would drink and drive? Seriously, Randy, who do you think I am?"_

"_I don't know anymore Rhian. I don't know where this has come from."_

"_Where it's come from? Christ, Randy, it's not the first time you've been home later than you've said. It's fine the first couple of times. But when it happens more often than not, it gets a bit tiring. And when you do it the one time it matters, that's when you push me over the edge."_

_Randy slams his hand against the door – it bangs against the wall and I jump. "For fuck's sake! I said I'm fucking sorry! What more do you want me to say? Do you want me to go round to Lea and apologise? What exactly do you want me to do? Because I don't know what to do anymore!"_

"_Don't do anything. Do nothing as usual. Carry on, oblivious to anything around you apart from your stupid job."_

"_Can you even hear yourself?"_

"_Whatever," I slam the glass down on the side, splashing water all over the place. "I'm going to bed."_

_'Rhi,' he says. He comes towards me, but I skirt around the other side of the kitchen table. 'Rhi!'_

"_Fuck off," I hiss._

"_RHI!" he yells, grabbing my arm, his fingers digging into my wrist._

"_Let go of me!" I pull away from him hard, but he holds on._

"_No!"_

_And suddenly I'm up against the wall and his mouth is on mine, hot, fierce, powerful. I thump his shoulders hard with my fists and he yelps as he pulls away._

"_Get off me," I hiss. But he cuts me off with another kiss. I resist for a second. But resistance is futile sometimes. And it feels good. Too good. Like a fucking drug. I can still feel anger, adrenaline running through my veins. I'm still shaking, but that feeling is subsiding, replaced by that familiar burn in the pit of my stomach._

_Randy's mouth leaves mine and starts on my neck – biting, sucking. His hands still grip mine against the wall, his body pressed hard against me. I wriggle against him and he loosens his grip enough for my hands to escapes and grip his shoulders, push him down further, moaning as he nips a little harder, groaning as he licks the red mark. His hands slide up under my shirt, groping at my breast, a finger sliding inside the cup, flicking across the nipple._

"_Fuck..."_

_One hand pushes my skirt up. Fingers pushing my underwear aside, frantic, desperate. My hands slip between us, unzip, tease relentlessly, until he's swearing against my mouth, begging me._

_Sorry's float between us, it's okay's uttered breathlessly, please... more... yes..._

_I push his pants down, taking his boxers with them. His length is hard against my thigh. So fucking close. His finger inside me, his thumb grazing across me, gentle, hard, slow, fast. I bite down his shoulder as he pushes me closer and then stops. He hisses in response, gathering me up in his arms, pushing into me roughly._

_He pauses. Holds my gaze. And then he pulls me away from the wall. I can feel him throbbing inside me as he sets me on the kitchen counter instead. My skirt is high up around my waist, my shirt half-undone, my lips bruised from his kisses, my neck raw from his bites, my cheeks red from his stubble. And then slowly, he starts to move. Slow, so fucking slow it's killing me. He presses his forehead against mine, his breath hot on my mouth, his lips so close, but not touching. All I can hear is the slow slap of skin against skin, the hitch in my breath as he starts to build pace, the scrape of nail on skin as I rake my fingers down his back under his shirt._

"_Rhi..." he growls. He's close, I'm close. So fucking close. I bite my lip, my head rolling back. He shudders against me, then tenses. Exhales. His thumbs graze my cheeks as he slides from me._

_All is forgiven._

**Nothing compares,  
><strong>**No worries or cares,**

I flick through my phone and pause, staring at the message. I hit delete. And start again.

Everything I write sounds impersonal, cold, distant. Not that I want to come over too friendly, too cool, too desperate.

But I know now that I can't just leave the stuff at his house. I need to see him. I need to confront this straight on. I need to talk to him.

I drum my fingers on the screen. And then type.

_Hi. I have some of your stuff – can we meet?_

I add a please. And then re-read about ten times. Eleven words. Uneven. I debate adding my name. Just in case... Would he have deleted my number? Lea said I should have deleted his the minute we broke up. But I couldn't bring myself to do it. Even if I did, I knew it off by heart anyway, so it wouldn't make a difference. But I was good. I resisted the drunk dial, the drunk text.

I hit send.

I chew my lip nervously. Too late to take it back.

**Regrets and mistakes, they're memories made,  
><strong>**Who would have thought how bittersweet this would taste?**

_The woman in the cubicle next to me flushes and leaves. I stay where I am, silent, waiting for the door to the bathroom to close – waiting to be alone again. I need time to think. _

_I am late. Four days late in fact. I have never been late. I am one of those girls who is on time, like fucking clockwork. Same day, every month. Regular._

_Never late. Never. _

_And I'm careful. So careful. Pill at 7am every morning. Even at the weekends._

_Sure, we don't use anything else. But why shouldn't we? We've been together long enough for that not to be an issue. It was a calculated decision. Not taken lightly. But surely there wasn't a chance that this would happen? _

_I scan the back of my pill box: "over 99% effective if taken correctly." What the hell does that mean? That there's a 0.001% chance that it won't work? That's... that's like less than one in a hundred chances that it won't work?_

_I throw the box back into my bag. Shit. I chew my lip and wonder what to do. The thought of taking an actual test scares the crap out of me. What if it is positive? What the hell will I do? I can't have a kid. The thought terrifies me. Yes, it would be great if it was planned. But like this? Definitely fucked up. Randy wouldn't grasp the fact that there's still a chance I can get pregnant on the pill. Our trust would be blown to shreds. He'd think I had lied to him. That I was tricking him._

_No... he wouldn't... Would he? No. He would wrap his arms around me, tell me it's all going to be okay, that he loves me, that he wants a baby too. We'd be close. So much more closer. He'd be over the moon. We broached the subject of children a while back, just one of those things that came up. He said he'd love a whole bunch. He'd made me grin like an idiot. He'd rubbed my stomach fondly as he said it. Told me it would make me more beautiful to know that something that was half his was growing inside me. I'd rolled my eyes, batted his hand away. Told him he'd have to wait for a few more years. That's fine, he said. Plenty of time to practice. _

_Yeah, Randy, it might be happening sooner than you think._

* * *

><p><em>On my way home, I pull up outside the drug store. Only for a second. I bottle it and head home instead. Randy is back for a few nights, already in the kitchen, laying the table. I manage to hold it together, desperate not to blurt it out. I watch him, the way he moves around me, his hand brushing across my shoulders as he passes me. The way he leans over the table after dinner, kisses me softly. How his arm slides around me as I sit down on the couch next to him. We fit perfectly together.<em>

_As we watch TV together, my mind wanders elsewhere. I can see it all: my stomach expanding, swelling. Randy's hands caressing it softly, whispering, kisses pressed against the taut skin. Sending him photos of the bump as it grows and grows whilst he's away. The ups and downs, the separation growing harder and harder, the reunions more sweet and tender. And then at end, Randy holding a tiny bundle in his arms._

_It all seems to right, yet so wrong at the same time. All too quick, all too soon._

"_You okay?" Randy murmurs. "You're normally full of conversation when I've been away for a while."_

"_Bad day at work," I reply. "I think I'll just go to bed."_

"_Do you want me..." he trails off._

_I shake my head. "Time of the month,'"I lie. I couldn't be further from the truth._

"_Oh okay...'" he kisses me softly, once on the mouth, then the tip of the nose and then my forehead._

_I don't sleep though. I lie there, images, thoughts running through my mind so fast I feel sick. The room feels like it's spinning, the whole world turning way too fast, life moving at double-speed. _

_I pretend and fail to be asleep when Randy finally comes to bed an hour later. His arms wrap around me as he spoons against me. His little finger slides under the waistband of my sweatpants, the rest of the hand spread over my abdomen. I want to cry. I want to roll over and tell him that I think I'm pregnant. I just want to know what he'll say. What he'll do. _

_But he snores softly into my hair._

_I wake around four, nature calling. Randy's hand is still on my stomach. I ease myself free and go to the bathroom. _

_Pulling down my underwear, I see a spot of red. _

_Relief floods through me. Along with a feeling of what if..._

**Nevermind, I'll find some like you,  
><strong>**I wish nothing but the best for you,**

I never told him. What was the point? Would it have changed anything? If it had been true, would none of this happened? Would we be that perfect, happy family? Or would I still be here, only with a baby for company? Awaiting the difficult conversation later in life about why dad lives with that other man.

My phone vibrates and I jump. Deep breath. Steady.

I flip it over and stare at the screen.

_Ok. 10am tomorrow Starbucks, main st. C u then._

**Don't forget me, I beg,  
><strong>**I remember you said,  
><strong>"**Sometimes it lasts in love,  
><strong>**But sometimes it hurts instead"**

"_Do you want another drink Cody?"_

_He shakes his head. "I'm fine thanks."_

_I leave him on the couch and head for the kitchen._

"_Is he okay?" I ask Randy._

"_What do you mean?" he glances up from gazing in the refrigerator, the choice between Bud and Bud Light obviously quite a difficult one. _

"_He just seems... I dunno, a bit quiet."_

"_He's always quiet."_

"_He seems nervous."_

"_Maybe that's because you keep asking him questions. Just leave the poor guy alone."_

"_I was making conversation," I pout._

_Randy closes the refrigerator, beer chosen. "I know baby..." he curls an arm around me and pulls me against him, kissing the top of my head. "He just keeps himself to himself." He pauses. "I think he's a bit stressed out at the moment anyway."_

"_What about?"_

"_Oh he's just bought this new house, but it needs loads of work doing to it."_

"_What's the problem?"_

"_They reckon they might have to knock half of it down and rebuild it. Something to do with the structure or something, I dunno. Anyway, he's trying to find somewhere to rent in the mean time but I mean, what's the point in him renting? Not like he'll be around much to get his money's worth is it?"_

"_How long will the rebuild take?"_

"_About six months or so."_

_I chew my lip. Randy kisses my head again and then goes back into the lounge._

"_Dude, what's the score?"_

_Cody murmurs something in reply._

_I flick the switch on the kettle. I drum my fingers on the kitchen counter, waiting for it to boil._

_Coffee in hand, I go back into the lounge. Randy shifts closer to Cody, sliding an arm over the back of the sofa behind me as I sit down._

"_Randy says you're looking for a place to stay," I say. _

_Two pair of eyes flick to me. _

"_Erm, yeah," Cody mutters._

"_You found anywhere?"_

"_No, not yet. But they say I can stay in part of the house if I want. They'll work around me. Not like I'll be there that often."_

"_Living through a rebuild is hell, you don't want to do that."_

_Randy is watching me closely – I resist the urge to roll my eyes at him._

"_Doesn't look like I have much of a choice."_

"_Why don't you come live here?"_

_Randy chokes on his beer. "Rhi!"_

"_Oh c'mon Randy, like it's really going to put us out. There's two spare rooms with nothing in them except beds! Might as well put them to use."_

_Randy scowls. "And when did you think of this amazing plan?"_

"_Just now." I shrug. "Like you would have thought of it." I lean over Randy and smile at Cody. "Did he even remotely suggest anything like this?"_

_Cody shakes his head slowly._

"_Exactly," I grin at Randy. "You are more than welcome to stay here Cody."_

"_Erm, thanks," he murmurs. "I mean, I really appreciate it."_

"_Don't mention it," I say pointedly at Randy, who shakes his head, rolls his eyes and then goes back to the game._

**Nevermind, I'll find someone like you,  
><strong>**I wish nothing but the best for you, too,**

The question that's always bugged me is what if Cody had never come to live with us. If there had been some distance would it have turned out differently? Or could it have happened away, on the road? I'm not sure which is better – to have to happen under your nose or behind your back. In the end, I guess it was both.

The light turns green and I pull away, the question still on my mind. Was it so obvious? Was I just oblivious to everything except myself and Randy? Did I just let our relationship slip away – was there something I could have done differently? I was so careful when we split not to ask those questions. I didn't want to hear that it was my fault. Because it was right? What girl lets her guy get hooked in by another guy? What does that say about her? I didn't want to know what I could have done to rescue the situation. Was it something I said, did?

It's funny, because if he'd left me for another woman, I don't think I would be thinking these things. Not now anyway. I would had a rebound, fucked a stranger, got absolutely slaughtered. Had my hair cut. Chucked out half my wardrobe. A complete life overhaul.

Instead, I'm stuck in the past.

I glance over to the box next to me. Five years packed into a box. I've been regretting asking to meet ever since I sent the message. Why couldn't I just leave it be? Walk away, throw away the stuff. He's obviously not bothered about it otherwise he'd have asked. Jesus...

I pull over and park. I don't know what to expect. All I can think is keep your cool – don't cry, don't scream, no emotion. Don't appear too sad. Don't appear too happy. I adjust the rearview mirror and check my reflection. Why on earth did I doll myself up? Pretending to be okay. He knows me too well. He will see straight through me.

**Don't forget me, I beg,  
><strong>**I remember you said,  
><strong>"**Sometimes it lasts in love,  
><strong>**But sometimes it hurts instead"**

_I lay back in the bubbles, close my eyes and let the scent of the candles all around me overwhelm my senses. Downstairs, Randy is doing the dishes, having practically pushed me up the stairs to have a bath, giving me at least 10 minutes peace and quiet before he'll come bounding up the stairs to join me. Or to "wash my back" as he politely put it. But I can read between the lines. I can just feel those hands taking on a life of their own – apparently you can easily mistake front from back. Back massages always seem to turn into a grope session. Not that I'm complaining..._

_My ears prick up as the TV is suddenly shut off downstairs. The familiar creak of the fourth step. The thump of feet across the bedroom. The bathroom door opens and Randy sticks his head around. _

_He opens his mouth to say something, but I cut him off. _

"_Fine!"_

_He grins, pushes the door open further and comes in, already stripped down to his boxers. _

"_I bought you wine," he says, placing the glass on the side of the bath._

"_A bribe I will happily accept."_

_He strips off his boxers and steps into the bath, grimacing at how hot it is. His legs slide along mine, his toes tickling my hips. His hands dip beneath the water, seeking out my legs, pulling me forward slightly so my feet rest on the tops of his thighs. I press my toes against his abs and he smirks._

_We lie in comfortable silence. Moments like this don't need to be spoiled by conversation. A comfortable silence says so much more._

"_I love you."_

_I stare at him. He is dead serious. Shit, Rhian, say something. The three words hang in the air. I swallow. _

_He said it first. _

_A smile plays on his lips, a soapy hand rubbing over the back of his head. "Jesus..." His eyes are shining a bit too much, or is that the candles?_

_Say something. Three words. You know you want to. Christ, you've wanted to say them for the past two months. But you chickened out about twenty times. Say it back. Say them._

"_I love you too," I breathe._

_He exhales slowly. "Thank fuck."_

_I giggle. "That shit you up."_

"_Just a bit," he grins._

_He moves forward, my legs sliding around his waist as he pulls me against him. _

"_Love you," he whispers again, his mouth soft, his kiss tender._

_I don't say anything in reply, just sigh happily into his kiss. Wrap my arms around him and hold on forever._

**Sometimes it lasts in love  
><strong>**But sometimes it hurts instead.**

I push open the door and walk inside. It's quiet, the morning rush over and the mid-morning coffee run just around the corner. Shifting the box under my arm, I order and hand over the money. As I'm waiting for what seems like an eternity for my coffee, the door clangs open.

I catch his eye as he walks over. My mouth is dry and my mind empty.

"Hey," he murmurs.

"Hi," I almost choke.

The barista slides a mug towards me and then turns to take Randy's order. I stand awkwardly, the box feeling heavy, my heart pounding.

"I'll be over there," I finally say, making to take the mug.

"I'll bring it over," he offers. "You've obviously got your hands full." He nods at the box.

"Erm... Thanks."

I pick a secluded spot. If this is going to end badly, I don't want the whole world to witness it.

The chair creaks as he takes his seat opposite me a few minutes later.

"So," he starts.

"I bought your stuff," I blurt out.

"I can see."

"It's just a few things. A shirt, some CDs, a few other bits and pieces..."

"Thanks."

"Sorry I didn't do it sooner."

"No rush."

"I..." I look up from the table and meet his eye. "I only found it the other day."

"Like I said, there was no rush."

Silence. I grab my mug and take a huge gulp. The coffee burns down my throat. "Shit," I mutter.

"Are you okay?" I can feel his eyes on me. Piercing through me.

Truth or lie?

"I'm fine." My voice shakes slightly, but I do my best to match my smile with my words.

"You don't have to lie to me, Rhi."

"Don't I?"

He reaches out, his fingers brushing my hand. I want to pull away, but I can't.

"You still mean something to me."

"Really?" I mutter.

"What, you think I'm that cold-hearted to just forget what we had?"

"No. But it makes it easier."

"I still think about you. I wonder if things might have been different if..."

I glance up at him, not quite believing what I'm hearing.

"I think the same thing..." I whisper. "But, it's not like we can go back is it?"

He shakes his head slowly. "I'm sorry."

"Were you happy with me?" I ask tentatively.

"Of course. We had some good times right?"

I give him a small smile. "Sure. Mixed in with the bad..."

"More good than bad though?"

"I think the good outweighed the bad." I pause. "Are... are you happy now?"

His eyes narrow ever so slightly, judging the question and weighing up his answer carefully. He opens his mouth and then closes it again.

"I have to know, Randy."

"Yes. I'm happy," he says slowly.

"Do you... do you think you would have been happy with me if none of this had happened?"

"Rhi... Don't do this to yourself. Please don't torture yourself over what if you had done this or hadn't done that. It was nothing that you did or didn't do. I got too greedy."

"I would have taken you back you know. If Cody... We could have moved on. Forgotten about everything."

He shakes his head. "No, you wouldn't have taken me back. Why would you?"

"I loved you."

"Exactly Rhi. Loved. What I did to you – it's unforgivable."

"I can forgive."

He chuckles. "Rhi, you hold a grudge like no-one else I know. Even if you had taken me back, it would have bubbled under the surface. We wouldn't have lasted. You wouldn't trust me ever again."

I smile. "Worth a try though right?"

"In another life, yes."

Another silence ensues. He still knows me. Even after all this time, he can still read me like a book. What is the point of hiding behind a façade when it comes to him?

His phone beeps.

"Sorry." He pulls it out of his jeans' pocket and looks at it without expression. "It's... erm, Cody. He's waiting for me. We've got to go to the airport..."

"Where are you off to?"

"L.A."

I nod slowly. "Well... Thanks for meeting me."

"No problem." He empties his cup. I watch his Adam apple bob as he swallows.

I nudge the box towards him with my foot. "Don't forget this."

He glances down. "Thanks..."

"I should go too."

"Right."

We stand, Randy with the box under one arm, holding it with much more ease than I did.

"See you around," he whispers. He comes towards me, his free arm sliding around me. His lips find my forehead. "You take care of yourself yeah?"

I nod against his chest. He releases me slowly and walks away for the final time.

I take a moment, watch him go, disappear out of sight. And then I follow.

Outside, I look around, wondering what to do now. I turn and head off down the road back to my car. As I wait to cross the street, I glance back and see Randy placing the box into the trunk of his car. The driver's door opens and Cody steps out. He walks around, past Randy, his hands grazing his hips.

I swallow, prepare myself for the shudder. A shudder that never comes. I watch them interact for a moment and then cross the road. Once in the car, I hold my hands out in front of me – they barely twitch. I adjust the mirror and chance a look back. They're already gone.

I pull away and for the first time in a while, I don't wonder what if.

**Fin x**


End file.
